Darkstalker Titan: Wings of Night
by Rider Paladin
Summary: Darkstalkers X-over: Nightwing discovers a hidden past that is really more trouble than it's worth. It gets even more troubling when he has a sensual succubus on his arm who's declared herself his protector and teacher. What'll Starfire say?
1. Stained Glass Mirror

"Darkstalker Titan: Wings of Night"

Chapter 1: "Stained-Glass Mirror"

Disclaimer: Teen Titans belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Darkstalkers belongs to Capcom. I make no money whatsoever from this story.

Author's note: It's a plotbunny that's been eating my brain for days, so I'm getting it out of my system. Darkstalkers meets Teen Titans. Yow.

On a more serious note, there is a tendency among some of us in the TT ficdom to give Robin some manner of superhuman ability. In many of those cases, the power is supernatural in origin, whether being an avatar of vengeance a la The Crow or some manner of vampire or demon. In this case, it'll be the latter, and if you're wondering just how that's going to happen, let's just say the character Demitri Maximoff has a great deal to do with it and let this story rip.

* * *

Bludhaven. Uglier twin sister of Gotham City. Wretched hive of scum and villainy. Utterly miserable wreck of a town drowning in moral filth. Mecca of criminality and corruption and vice. Babylon of the modern world. Jerusalem of sin. In spite of all those titles, there was one that was most pronounced in the mind of the silent, black-clad man perched on the church cross.

_Mine. My city. My territory. My rules._

The man once known as Robin and now known as Nightwing descended from his perch, diving into the darkness. He was not quite of the darkness, though, no matter what his name would suggest. He was a child of light, whose radiance now shone brighter in the bleakness of this eternal night. He was the Lightbringer, the Morningstar, and the vice peddlers and dealers would stand abashed in the starkness of his light.

They were abashed right now, weren't they? Abashed enough to attempt to flee, to run, to even shoot at him. He dodged those bullets with a smile, delivering a quip every now and again. One notable jibe was, "Where'd you get your shooting lessons, the Imperial Stormtrooper Marksmanship Academy?" Another was, "Did you watch too much _A-Team_ as a kid?" A third was, "I'd say this was just like an action movie, except it isn't. It's _cooler._ For _me._"

That last one was accented by a kick to the chest of one thug and an elbow to the nose of another. A gracefully executed back-flip seamlessly threw Nightwing out of the way of another gunshot, and he grabbed the thug that had fired by his shoulders, using the momentum from his flip to pull him down and kick him over his head. Just as another thug had him seemingly dead to rights, a vaguely birdlike shuriken struck his hand, knocking the gun out of it. Nightwing wasted no time in taking that one down.

"Now . . . you might want to do something radical," he remarked to the fallen thugs. "Something like, oh . . . how best to say this . . . reevaluate your lives. Then things like this won't have to happen to you."

He jumped into the air, kicked off against a wall, and threw out a grappling line on which to swing. As soon as the line found a secure grip, Nightwing swung into the night for more examples of scum and villainy to be brought low. While doing this, someone silently shadowed him, admiring the sleekness and grace of his form . . . for less than professional reasons.

"You could have done worse, Demitri," a sultry voice whispered in the darkness.

* * *

When Nightwing finished his patrol, he changed into civilian wear, becoming an incognito Dick Grayson. When dressed like this, he wasn't the Dark Knight of Bludhaven; he was simply a charming, somewhat scatterbrained young proto-playboy. He did his best to maintain that reputation, whether it be through flirting, acting obtuse about one subject or another, or cracking a joke here and there. The charming part came from never being perceived as deliberately obnoxious, and Dick went to great efforts not to be obnoxious.

He climbed the stairs of his apartment complex, waving a jaunty greeting to Bridget Clancy, his landlord . . . and a highly attractive woman at that. Bridget answered in her saucy Irish brogue, "Up to your usual tricks, Grayson?"

"I don't need tricks, Clancy," he replied. "I've got natural talent."

"Yeah, I can see that," she remarked. "All that 'talent' in your pants."

Dick snickered. "What can I say? I'm blessed." He sauntered off to his apartment, where he slumped onto a couch and pulled out his cell phone, checking his missed calls. Roy had called, Wally had called, Vic had called, Gar had called, Raven had called, Kory had called, and Jinx had called. Some of them had even called more than once, much to Dick's silent bemusement.

He clicked on the most recent call (Vic) and dialed him up. It didn't take him long before he answered. "Hey, Cy."

"_Hey, man,"_ Vic's baritone greeted on the other end. _"How's Bludhaven doing?"_

"Scared some thugs into submission. Beat the fear of God into some low-level bosses. Irritated Blockbuster. Saved a few damsels."

"_Tell me about the damsels."_

Dick groaned good-naturedly. "Come on, Vic. I don't seduce women I've rescued. That's just not right."

"_Yeah, I know. Don't tell me you've never been tempted, though, or that some of them haven't wanted to demonstrate their appreciation."_

"You and Roy spend far too much time together."

"_What can I say? Roy's a cool guy when he's not being a jackass or pining after Cheshire."_

Dick couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, he is." If there was any redeeming aspect to Roy Harper's personality, it was his loyalty. He stuck with friends, family, and other loved ones long past the point anybody else would have gotten fed up. Much of it stemmed from knowing just what it was like to be rejected, to be abandoned, and he tried oh-so-hard not to do the same to people he cared about. Sometimes, it was a good thing; other times, in the case of his ill-fated romance with Cheshire, it wasn't.

"_Other than playing Dark Knight to your city, how've you been doing?"_ Vic asked.

"Pretty good, although everyone still thinks I'm just 'slumming it.'"

"_That must suck."_

"Yeah, but they're nice people once they get past that. There's this guy who lives here, John Law."

"_Who's that?"_

"Tarantula. Well, he used to be. Back in the day. Kind of like the Shadow with a spider motif. Been thinking about visiting him professionally."

"_You mean you're going to get him to train you? Point you in some directions Batman might not have felt like having you go in?"_

"Something like that. How's the team?"

"_They're great. Raven and Joey really hit it off. Wally and Jinx? They have their moments, both good and bad. Gar and I are still single, and we're thinking of going off with each other."_

"Serious?" Dick asked amusedly.

"_No, but we put up with each other for this long. Who's to say we couldn't make a relationship work?"_

"Best of luck to you, then."

"_Kory misses you, you know,"_ Vic remarked. _"You might want to come over and visit soon."_

Dick sighed. "I miss her, too, Vic."

"_Then come over and tell her."_

"Yeah. I gotta go. I'll see you guys sometime soon, ok?"

"_You'd better,"_ Vic warned good-humoredly.

"Bye."

"_See ya."_

Dick ended the call, and reclined in his couch. He could have gone to his bed, but he didn't really feel like it. With a small yawn, he closed his eyes and passed into the merry oblivion of sleep. As he slept, he dreamed, and his dream was occupied by visions of Koriand'r, known to the people of Earth as Starfire. As beautiful as she ever was, and definitely having filled out in all the right places with an outfit to show it off, said outfit being tight purple "space metal" pants over what probably constituted an armored sling bikini of the same color as her pants.

In his dream visions, she was gliding to him, and he was inexorably pulled toward her by some invisible force. They met midway, embracing and kissing passionately. _"Welcome back,"_ Dream-Kory whispered huskily in his ear, her hand gripping his backside firmly.

"_Kory . . ."_ Dick murmured.

As Dick dreamed of Kory, he was completely unaware of the shadow observing him, silently drinking his passion. "You taste so good . . ." the shadow murmured. "Even better than you used to."

* * *

As the sun began to peek over Bludhaven's horizon, Dick found himself straddled by a voluptuous turquoise-haired woman. He looked up into her turquoise eyes, eyes brimming with mischief and lust, and tilted his head. "Do you mind? I'm trying to sleep."

"I know," the woman replied. "I would very much like to sleep in your company, though."

"Who are you and how did you get in here?" Dick interrogated.

The woman rose up, still straddling him but her torso upright, and smirked. "I'm Morrigan, and I have my ways."

"Morrigan. That's Scottish, right?"

"Yes." She smirked at him. "And you're wondering what I'm doing here. Simple. I've been scouting you."

"Scouting me for what?" Dick asked.

"It's a long, complex, and somewhat painful story, but let's just say you've inherited enemies less mundane than what you're used to fighting."

"Enemies? What's that supposed to mean?"

Morrigan stared into his eyes, a hardness gathering within her own. "You know what it means."

Before Dick could ask her what she meant, the ominous buzz of a chainsaw interrupted, prompting both of them to turn to see a doorway being sliced into the far wall. The section of wall that had been carved out to make that doorway was brutally kicked out, revealing a burning shadow. "Hello, King," the shadow growled.

"Let me guess, you're here to kill me," Dick deduced.

"Did the whore tell you about yourself just yet?" the shadow asked.

"I take great offense to being labeled a mere 'whore,'" Morrigan quipped, agilely springing off Dick and landing in a battle-ready crouch. "I am an elegant lady of the darkness." Beside her, Dick flipped off the couch and landed in a battle stance.

"You want me dead? Better than you have tried," Dick taunted.

The shadow charged them, only for Morrigan to unfurl bat-like wings from her head and back, her mostly unbuttoned white blouse and red vinyl pants exploding into a skintight black-and-plum (and low-cut) combat suit. Morrigan immediately put her wings to use, launching into a flying kick with her wings wrapped around her legs like a drill. The shadow was gored by her attack, but didn't seem at all disposed toward giving up. It slunk into the fading shadows of the night and a fist of solid light struck Dick before he was even aware of it, as a fist of solid darkness followed.

To Dick's bemusement, the darkness fist had a weaker hit than the light fist. The difference was academic, though, as both blows were considerably stronger than what a normal human could take and survive. Fortunately, Dick prided himself on being the best example of normal human ability to exist apart from his mentor, and was thus able to recover quickly enough to put up some resistance.

"Why do you call me King?" he asked.

"It is not you that is the King, but the you that sleeps within that weak human façade," the voice answered. "The true you that shall _never_ awaken!"

The darkness and light fists hit Dick again, this time simultaneously, as though coming from a singular nexus. Dick flipped in midair and snapped off a blade from the ceiling fan. As he landed, he threw the blade at the reformed burning shadow, which merely caught it and tossed it aside contemptuously. "Nice try, boy."

Morrigan's wings wrapped around her arms, forming armored sleeves and gauntlets. She punched the burning shadow, knocking it back and forcing it to disperse once again into its separate components of darkness and light, from which it attempted to strike Dick. This time, Dick flipped out of the way of the light fist and grabbed one of the other blades of the ceiling fan, spinning into a swing that took him into a flying kick to the light switch.

"I figured I needed more light," Dick remarked. "You can never go wrong with more light."

The burning shadow reformed, but the burning part seemed more tangible and solid than the shadow part. In other words, Dick turning on the lights had cut the entity off from its darkness-based powers, which would certainly halve its fighting abilities. Still, it was determined to give as good as it got, attacking Dick with solid-light finger-blades. Dick dodged the swipes to the best of his ability, but the speed and intensity with which the entity attacked resulted in scalding cuts to his side and the extremities he was using to counter the entity's attacks.

Morrigan unfurled her wings from around her arms and this time they wrapped around her legs, armoring them in the same way as her arms before. She launched herself into a flying kick that struck down the burning shadow, which was already significantly weakened by not having ambient darkness to rely on. To that end, it threw solid-light knives at the light fixtures it could immediately reach, shattering them and once again darkening the room.

"Much better," the burning shadow growled.

"So?" Dick asked. "Still kicking your ass."

He jumped onto the coffee table and off it, grabbing the ceiling fan again upon scoring enough altitude on his jump. This time, he snapped off two of the fan's blades and dropped down with them, holding them almost like war fans. Beside him, Morrigan lifted an elegant eyebrow in amusement and slightly out of being impressed. Before them, the burning shadow laughed out loud.

"Do you really think such flimsy things will stop me?" it asked.

"I have my ways," Dick answered cockily, hoping he was pissing off the shadow.

His hope was rewarded in the form of a charge by the burning shadow, which sliced at Dick with its solid-light finger-blades. This time, Dick blocked them with the ceiling fan blades and used the brief occupation of the burning shadow's hands to kick and knee it in what might have passed for a midsection. Morrigan leaped over his head and kicked off his shoulders to deliver a flying kick to the burning shadow, which dispersed once more into its component elements. Fortunately, the sun was getting higher over the horizon, thus partially diluting the advantage the burning shadow had in dispersal.

A light fist moved to strike Dick again, but Dick knocked it aside with one of his ceiling fan blades. A darkness fist attempted to hit him, but he jumped out of the way and Morrigan kicked that fist aside. The light and darkness fists struck together, hoping to catch Dick by surprise, but Dick crossed the ceiling fan blades in an impromptu shield. While the fists still landed their joint blow, knocking Dick into a wall, Morrigan was able to strike their nexus, forcing the burning shadow to reform.

"I have to admit. For a human, you're good at fighting."

"No, no, I'm not _that_ good. It's just that you're incredibly weak for a demon."

"What did you say?" the burning shadow asked, as Dick lifted himself to his feet.

"You heard me," Dick taunted. "You're weak. And that's why you didn't come after me before, if I am who you take me for. You were too weak to kill me before, and now that I'm supposedly a weak, helpless human, you figured you'd have an easier time of it. But you're still too weak."

The burning shadow let out an outraged yell. "How _dare_ you!?"

Morrigan immediately interceded to block the burning shadow's wrathful charge at Dick, kicking it in what passed for a chest. The burning shadow was knocked back, only to disperse again into its components of light and darkness. "I'll take the dark, you take the light," Dick suggested.

When the darkness fist attacked, Dick swatted it aside with one ceiling fan blade and chopped its nexus with the other. Beside him, Morrigan unfurled her wings from around her legs and launched into a drill-enforced corkscrew kick that grinded the light fist apart. When the light half began to reform, Morrigan wrapped her wings around her arms and beat it into submission, while Dick battered the dark half again and again with the ceiling fan blades. Just as he was about to strike the final blow, a knock on the door interrupted him.

"Just a minute!" Dick shouted.

"Dick, it's Clancy!" Clancy shouted from behind the door.

Dick bounded to the door and opened it, obscuring the contents of the apartment as much as possible with his body. "Hey, Clancy. What's the sitch?"

"Since when did you start talking like Kim Possible?" Clancy asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement.

"Since now," Dick replied with a smirk. "So? What brings you to my door?"

"The noise," Clancy replied. "Are you having a party in here?"

"You could say that . . . but we have a stubborn guest, he refuses to leave."

"Is he drunk? I'm really good at handling drunk people."

Dick groaned. "Worse. PCP."

"Shouldn't you be calling an ambulance?" Clancy's tone was full of concern.

"Thanks for the concern, but you don't need to worry. We're kicking his ass right now."

"You do realize people high on PCP don't feel pain as much, if at all, right?"

"I know my drugs. I've actually tried a few." Truthfully, Dick had never tried any drugs, although Bruce had drilled into him the knowledge of pretty much every controlled substance on the planet and their effects. Sadly, he couldn't say the same for all of his friends; one had ended up in a pretty bad way, much to Dick's regret, and they'd lost touch for a time.

"Well, if you're sure you've got it handled . . ."

"Yeah, we've got it handled."

"Good," Clancy yielded. "Just keep the noise down."

As soon as he was sure Clancy was gone, Dick slammed the door and threw one of the ceiling fan blades at the burning shadow, forcing it to dissipate again, only this time there were very little shadows to hide in. Ergo, Dick and Morrigan beat the crap out of its separated components, forcing it to recompose and retreat. "Who was that?" Dick asked.

* * *

"An old rival of yours," Morrigan replied. "Or so he imagined himself to be."

"Of mine?" Dick inquired. "Are you serious? Who am I to these people?"

Morrigan whistled not-so-innocently, an amused smile on her face. "You . . . are a king. _The_ King."

"Of what?"

"Makai, the world of demons."

Dick narrowed his eyes at her. "How is that possible? The closest I've been to this Makai was when Trigon tried to turn the planet into his personal corner of Hell."

"Oh, it wasn't you as you are now that was in the running for king of Makai," Morrigan amended. "It was you as you once were, a powerful man named Demitri Maximoff. No, you were more than just a man . . . you were a god."

"Are you trying to seduce me? Because it's not really working, although I appreciate the effort."

Morrigan smacked his arm. "Not consciously, no, but usually my aura would make it impossible for a man to resist me."

"Fortunately for me, I am not the usual species of man," Dick half-joked.

"I think I'm going to like you."

"Thanks. But seriously, I used to be a guy named Demitri Maximoff and I ruled – or tried to rule – some kind of Hell world?"

"Yes. Emphasis on the 'tried.' My father trounced you, although you did put up a decent fight."

Dick looked at her askance. "Who's your father?"

"Belial, the former king of demons. Long live the King." Morrigan's tone was affectionately sarcastic, or sarcastically affectionate. Dick wasn't sure of the order in which it went.

"That shadow isn't going to be the last of it, is there?"

"No, certainly not. You're going to have a long hard road ahead of you, and as long as you're a mere human . . . it's going to be even harder."

"Just let me make a few calls," Dick said.

"Someone to watch over your city while you're away?" Morrigan surmised. "Oh, I wonder who it could be . . ."

"Helena? It's Dick."

"_Hey. What do you want?"_

"You. I need you to do something for me."

Helena snickered on the other end. _"Like what?"_

"Could you watch Bludhaven for me? I have somewhere I need to be right now."

"_Sure. Am I doing this alone or do you think I need help?"_

"Just to be sure . . . I'm gonna be calling Roy and sending him over."

"_Not a bad choice . . ."_

Dick raised his eyebrow, although Helena couldn't see it. "Is there something I need to know?"

"_What can I say, Dick? You have your secrets, I have mine. And never the twain shall meet. Remember?"_

"Fine. Just come to Bludhaven as quickly as you can."

"_Anything for you, Dick,"_ Helena answered in sarcastic singsong.

"Thanks," Dick answered. The click on the other end let him know that Helena had ended the call. He immediately scrolled down his contacts list and found Roy's number, quickly dialing it. It didn't take long before Roy picked up.

"_Dick?"_

"Yeah, Roy. It's me. Listen, something's come up."

"_And you need me to fill in for you."_

"Basically."

"_Will I have company?"_

"Yeah, Huntress."

Roy whistled on the other end.

"Something I need to know?" Dick asked.

"_Nah, Wingman, I'm just looking forward to this now,"_ Roy replied.

"Why?"

"_Fighting crime is always more fun with a kick-ass lady by your side."_

Dick chuckled. "Got that right."

"_You gonna go back to the Titans?"_

"Yeah. This is something I'm going to need serious help with."

"_Good luck, then. You'll be seeing me tonight."_

"Thanks," Dick said.

"_You're welcome, Wingman,"_ Roy answered. _"See ya."_

* * *

After arrangements had been made for Roy and Helena, otherwise known as Arsenal and Huntress, to stay and fight crime in Bludhaven for the duration of Dick's absence, Dick was sitting on a plane that would take him to Jump City. Beside him sat Morrigan, in her "human" clothes, which were a white blouse with only the lower buttons buttoned and tight red vinyl pants. Dick himself wore an unzipped black sweatshirt over a gray T-shirt and dark blue, somewhat tight jeans.

"I'm looking forward to meeting your friends," Morrigan purred.

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to seeing them, too," Dick agreed idly.

"Especially the one you call Kory, right?" Morrigan winked mischievously at him.

Dick looked at Morrigan askance. "Exactly what do you mean by that?"

Morrigan chortled. "You know what it means."

Dick growled, only to elicit more laughter from Morrigan.

"Do that again."

"Don't play games with me," Dick warned. "We don't have time."

"You're no fun," Morrigan mock-pouted. "But that's something you and he have in common; both of you are too serious for your own good."

Dick looked away first. "I don't have time for this."

"Want me to send some good dreams your way?" Morrigan whispered sultrily.

"Just let me sleep," Dick answered.

Morrigan reclined in her seat, smirking. "You're so fun to toy with."

* * *

End Notes: That's the first chapter of this tale. If you're wondering who Clancy is, she's from Chuck Dixon's starting run on Nightwing's solo title and her role here is similar to her role there. If you're wondering about Dick's personality here, I was going for a cross between Batman and Devil May Cry's Dante. Meaning that he gets copious amounts of badass from both but also Batman's "dark knight" attitude mixed with Dante's "devil-may-care" attitude, which is kind of like Dick's personality in some comics. The named characters here are the Titans, but with their real names used instead of their superhero names; Cyborg is Vic, Beast Boy is Gar, Raven is Raven, Jericho is Joey, Starfire is Koriand'r (Kory for short), Jinx is Jinx, Arsenal (formerly Speedy) is Roy, and (Kid) Flash is Wally.

As for how this story is going to progress from here, Morrigan's going to meet the Titans, which is gonna be a hoot to write. Dick's going to be continually messed with by Morrigan (in the fun way) and enemies from his previous incarnation (in the not-fun way). And as if that weren't bad enough, he's going to start coming into his former incarnation's abilities . . . and evil nature, the latter of which he will have to struggle against.

"But wait, what about And Hell Came With Him?" you ask. My answer is that I will return to it soon enough; I'm just being eaten alive by this plot-bunny and this is my only way of exorcising it. Hope you enjoyed, and see you next chapter.


	2. Descendants of Darkness

"Darkstalker Titan: Wings of Night"

Chapter 2: "Descendants of Darkness"

Disclaimer: Darkstalkers belongs to Capcom. Teen Titans belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. I do not have any creative input in the products of any of the three, nor am I a shareholder in those companies. Ergo, I do not own most of the characters I will be using here and I make no profit from this story.

Author's note: There you have it, Nightwing is the reincarnation of one of the more reputable badasses of the Darkstalkers franchise. How this will impact him as the story progresses remains to be seen, but I can assure you that he is going to retain most of his normal personality. That doesn't necessarily mean "another" personality won't start sharing (or the loose definition thereof) headspace with his. As for the role Morrigan and other Darkstalkers characters will play, you'll see that play out as well. Anyway, onward.

* * *

The flight to Jump City had been largely uneventful, at least if Dick didn't count Morrigan playing with him eventful. Specifically, he'd just been having a very nice dream about a picnic with Starfire, a dream that had turned increasingly sexual and increasingly raunchy in that sexuality as it had progressed. It was a blur, but he did recall peanut butter being used . . . in ways it wasn't supposed to be used. It had been fun, though, he certainly recalled that much. When he'd woken up, he'd noticed that Morrigan was no longer sitting next to him and that there was activity underneath the blanket that rested over his lower half.

Dick peeked and found Morrigan's face in the unzipped crotch of his jeans, which left very little to his imagination as to what she'd been up to. He glared into her mischievous smirk. "You do realize it's not polite to drain a guy while he's sleeping, right?"

"Needed the pick-me-up," Morrigan replied unabashedly. "And you enjoyed it. I should know, it was like an inexhaustible fountain."

Dick growled lowly, an unnatural rumble in the back of his throat. He didn't know what Morrigan saw when she looked at him, but she promptly popped back into her seat next to him, allowing Dick to zip himself up discreetly. He did know one thing, though; it hadn't frightened her. By the glint in her eyes, it had sparked some kind of excitement in her.

"Keep your hands to yourself until we get to the Tower," he instructed. "In fact, don't touch me, period."

Morrigan pouted. "For a guy named 'Dick,' you're not fun at all."

"That's the _other_ meaning of my name," Dick answered sardonically.

One more not-quite-eventful thing happened on that flight, though, an attempted hijacking. Some paramilitary roughnecks had started marching down the aisle of the plane, waving high-powered guns in random passengers' faces while the apparent ringleader was busily intimidating the pilot and copilot into surrendering the plane. Judging by the noise some of them were making, at least the noise Dick could translate into actual words, they were some kind of secessionist movement. He would have to find a way to stop them before innocent people got hurt, regardless of the cost to his secret identity.

Then again, people knew he was a circus acrobat before becoming Bruce Wayne's ward and later adopted son. They might not think it so completely unusual of him to do something like what he was contemplating. At the very least, it'd distance him somewhat, in their minds, from the "feckless playboy" persona Bruce exhibited. At the very worst, who'd directly suspect him of being Nightwing, as long as he didn't use anything directly associated with that identity?

To that end, Dick took off his belt and snapped off the buckle. "That was a nice belt," Morrigan remarked. "Still, if you wanna waste it doing something vaguely heroic . . ."

"I do," Dick retorted, and then threw the buckle at a secessionist's gun, knocking it out of his hands, though not before he accidentally shot his fellow in the shoulder. In the confusion and screaming terror that ensued, Dick quietly waded in and started kicking ass. Nonlethal as he was, he also struck quickly and decisively enough to take down most of their number before the bystanders recovered their senses. Just as it seemed over, he heard another gunshot and then a loud thump; turning around, he found a bystander pinning the ringleader of the secessionists to the floor, the gun some distance out of his hands.

Dick looked around, trying to see if the bullet hadn't hit anyone. Judging by the expressions on everyone's faces, it had hit someone, only . . . those expressions of fright, confusion, and shock seemed particularly fixed on him. He looked at them quizzically, and then one of them pointed at his shoulder, prompting him to look and see that his already black sweatshirt had darkened further at the shoulder. When he inspected that spot more closely, he found that it was particularly reddish.

He was no stranger to getting shot. It happened to him enough times on the job; one of those times had been the very reason he'd left Batman's side and gone all the way to Jump City. Even with the skills he'd acquired as Nightwing, he was still not so good as to be able to completely avoid bullets; he was only human, after all. At least, that was what he'd thought all his life.

The bystander who'd tackled the secessionist leader looked up at him. "You gonna be all right?"

Someone else shouted, "Hey, land this thing; that kid needs a doctor!"

"I'm a doctor." Another passenger, a blonde in her mid-thirties and garbed in a black dress, stepped forward. "Not sure how well I'll do without my equipment, but hopefully it'll be enough until we can get you to a hospital."

"Sure," Dick acceded, letting the doctor do her work. In little time at all, the bleeding had been stopped and his wound had been tied off. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the doctor replied.

"May I request the name of the kind lady who saved this stranger's life?"

"Since you're well enough to flirt, I don't see why I can't tell you. Meridian Chase. Good friends call me Merry."

"I'm sure you make a lot of people merry." Dick smirked slightly, but good-naturedly.

"And you? Aren't you going to tell me your name?" Meridian prompted.

"Grayson. Dick Grayson."

"Like James Bond." Meridian seemed more amused by Dick's style of introduction than anything else. "You're a very brave young man."

"Just did what I had to."

* * *

When the plane finally landed on the runway of Jump City Airlines, Dick and Morrigan quickly disappeared amidst the teeming masses. It would only impede them if they had to stick around and answer questions from security. Having picked up his luggage and exited the airport, he was about to hail a taxi when Morrigan stepped out onto the road and folded her arms in such a way as to cause her chest to nearly burst out of the barely buttoned shirt she wore.

The taxi stopped, all right, and the driver was somewhere between peeved and pleased. "Hey, lady!" he shouted. "If you wanted a taxi –"

"I do," Morrigan replied coolly, sauntering over to the passenger side of the taxicab. She jerked a thumb over in Dick's direction. "For my boy here."

The driver didn't know whether to be disappointed or not. He shouldn't have been surprised by a long shot; lovely lady like her _had_ to be attached. And the "boy" she was referring to was definitely good-looking by any woman's standards, a dark-haired almost-Adonis with electric blue eyes, a pleasingly firm and supple jaw, and very slightly, almost imperceptibly, bronzed skin. Hell, he'd need all his body parts to count how many women he knew who would have risked their marriages for a night with this "boy."

"So where are you lovebirds headed to?" the driver asked conversationally, after Dick had put his luggage in the cab trunk and gotten in the backseat with Morrigan.

"We're headed for the bay overlooking Titans Tower," Dick replied. "And she is not my girlfriend."

"Sure, she isn't," the driver remarked sardonically, looking in the rearview mirror to check out Morrigan's mock pout. Beautiful lady like that and the boy next to her wasn't all over her? He _had_ to be gay, no other justification for turning down that fine specimen of womanhood. Still, keeping that to himself, he drove the not-couple to the bay overlooking Titans Tower and dropped them off there. "Have fun, you two."

"Sure," Dick answered, tipping generously along with his payment. Once the taxi driver was gone, Dick started walking into a nearby trinket shop, Morrigan on his heels. Once inside, they walked into the back of the shop to face what looked like a security camera. Dick looked up into the camera's lens, the red light on that camera turning green.

"_Identity confirmed. Welcome, Nightwing."_

A hidden door slid open, exposing a long and winding stairway. Dick stepped inside and began to walk down the stairs, Morrigan following. Once they had reached the end of the stairway, a pod resembling a sleek, high-tech train car waited for them at the edge of the water. The pod opened once they got close enough and they stepped inside, taking their seats.

"Your Titans have a very nice setup," Morrigan remarked.

"Yeah," Dick responded as the pod sank underwater and sped across the bay.

"How long do we have?" Morrigan asked.

"Until we get to the Tower? Five, ten minutes tops," Dick replied.

Morrigan sighed. "I guess that means we'll only have time for a quickie."

"No thanks." Dick glared at her. "I told you already. Don't touch me."

In those tense few minutes, the pod arrived at the island on which Titans Tower resided. The pod opened, allowing Dick and Morrigan to step out onto the island. They began the trek to Titans Tower, which was blissfully short yet felt like forever to Dick, having not seen his friends in a while. As soon as they were within reach of the door, they were greeted by a tall, muscular dark-skinned man with sleek silvery cybernetics wedded to his body.

"That you, Dick?" he asked.

"Vic, of course it's me," Dick answered.

"Tell me something only Dick would know," Victor challenged.

"You still carry a torch for Jinx," Dick remarked with an amused smirk.

"Biometric scan says it's you. Neuropathic scan says it's you. You know about Jinx and me. Come here, you crazy man, you."

Dick and Victor embraced in a manful hug. "It's been too long, Vic."

"Tell me about it. We've all missed you."

"I've missed you guys, too."

"So how's Bludhaven? Still kicking ass? Still putting the fear of you into those dirtbags?"

Dick scoffed. "They're so scared of me it's a wonder they can crawl out of their watering holes to do anything criminal."

After an enthusiastic high-five, Victor looked at Dick inquisitively. "Did you get into some kind of fight?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you've got a bullet in your shoulder and . . . your wound seems to have healed around it," Victor replied.

"Oh, that. No big thing. I'm sure I can get it out after some medical attention."

"Then you'd better come on in. And the lady can come, too." Vic winked with his organic eye at Morrigan, who smirked coquettishly at him.

"I'm Morrigan," the turquoise-haired woman introduced herself.

"I'm Cyborg," Vic answered. "At least, that's my professional name."

"And your real name?" Morrigan prompted.

"Just Vic."

* * *

Once inside the Tower, Vic guided Dick and Morrigan into the main room, which hadn't changed much at all. Sure, the technology had gotten more advanced, but in spirit it was still the place where everyone gathered to play videogames, watch TV, and occasionally strategize. The first to stand up and greet him was Starfire, who embraced him in an abnormally tight hug. It didn't feel so bad, either because Dick had gotten used to it or because the pain was slightly eased by Starfire's bountiful bosom pressing against his upper chest.

"I've missed you, Nightwing," she whispered, in her smoky, alien-accented voice.

"I've missed you, too, Star," Dick answered softly.

"Yo, boss man!" Wally greeted, dashing over to Dick and Kory. The speedster had gotten taller and slightly more muscular, only he retained his wiry runner's build. He wore a tight red running suit with yellow piping and a lightning bolt symbol on his chest, along with knee-high yellow running shoes and high-tech yellow sweatbands. His face was partly concealed by a red cowl and yellow goggle-visor with lightning-styled ear-caps.

"Looking good, Flash," Dick greeted.

"As usual," Wally replied. "Gotta be at my best for my lady. And speaking of ladies . . ." He eyed Morrigan with a light smirk. "Who might you be, sexy?"

"Morrigan," the turquoise-haired succubus replied sultrily. "And you. Are you fast in _everything_ you do?"

"Not quite," Wally replied. "I've got endurance to go with my speed, and I'm ready to go whenever my lady is."

"Got that right," a snarky voice agreed, prompting the five to turn their attentions to a young woman with her pink hair worn up in hornlike pigtails and dressed in a tight black PVC dress and purple-and-black striped stockings with knee-high platform boots with buckled greaves. Her catlike pink eyes glared at Wally and Morrigan. "Quit flirting, Kid."

"I dropped the 'Kid' a few years ago, Jinx," Wally answered. "It's just 'Flash' now."

"I see that," Jinx replied tartly. Then she turned to Dick. "Nice seeing you again."

"You, too, Jinx," Dick answered.

"Welcome home, Dick," a gravelly yet undeniably feminine voice greeted, prompting Dick to turn and see Raven, dressed in a black cloak over a black sleeveless leotard with buckled thigh-high boots, elbow-length arm-warmers, and the familiar belt of gold-framed red gems hanging loosely on her womanly hips.

"Thanks, Raven," Dick replied with a smile.

Raven smiled back, albeit briefly, and the smile disappeared completely when she saw Morrigan. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to treat a guest?" Morrigan mocked.

Raven glared and turned to Dick. "What is she doing here?"

"She's Morrigan, and she's here to help me," Dick answered.

"With what?"

"Go ahead, dear," Morrigan prompted. "Read his aura."

Despite herself, Raven did exactly as Morrigan suggested and her violet eyes widened considerably. "How . . . ?"

"I have no idea how Demitri's spirit came to be incarnated inside this boy," Morrigan replied, "but it doesn't matter. Grayson here has inherited Demitri's enemies, but Demitri's power is slow in embracing him."

"You're hurt," Raven said to Dick.

"It's just a scratch."

"A healed-over bullet? Not quite the scratch you think it is." Without invitation, she grabbed Dick's arm and pulled him over. "Take off your shirt."

"If that's what you want," Dick answered nonchalantly, removing his sweatshirt and the T-shirt underneath, exposing his patched-up bullet wound. Raven removed the patch and focused her power on the bullet that remained inside Dick's shoulder, forcing it out. Once it fell out, Dick's wound began to bleed again, but to Raven's surprise, the wound also began to close at a speed considerably greater than that which a normal human body would be capable. It was becoming clear, though, that Dick was anything but a normal human.

Raven cleaned the blood from Dick's wound as it slowly, inexorably sealed itself. She then went to retrieve a new patch for Dick's wound, but when she returned to apply it, that wound had almost closed completely. Despite that, she patched the wound to make sure it wouldn't cause Dick any undue distress as it finished closing. Dick put on his T-shirt and sweatshirt once she was done. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Raven replied. "How did you . . ."

"Must be Demitri's powers," Dick surmised. "They're probably starting to kick in, but slowly. I barely felt that bullet when it went in."

"Hey, I just smelled blood and . . ." the green-skinned, elfin-eared animorph known as Gar Logan and Changeling was saying as he walked in, only to trail off when he saw Dick. "Whoa . . . Dick?"

"Yeah, it's me, Gar," Dick confirmed. "I think."

"Was that your blood?"

"Yeah. Got that in a fight on my way here. No big thing. Good seeing you."

"Likewise, fearless leader," Gar answered. The animorph had grown taller and more muscular, albeit in a sinewy fashion rather than the bulk Cyborg, Batman, and Superman were known for. He showed off those muscles quite well in his new outfit, though, a sleeveless black-and-purple suit with metal shin guards, gauze bindings around his forearms, and a pair of goggles sitting atop his mop of green hair. His voice had also grown several decibels deeper, although he retained his somewhat less-than-mature tone. "What brings you?"

"I have a problem," Dick admitted.

"What kind of problem?" Gar asked, eyeing Morrigan curiously. "Sex addiction?"

"Nope. I'm basically the reincarnation of some kind of demon lord and his enemies have become my enemies by default," Dick replied nonchalantly.

"Whoa. Seriously?"

"Yes. Seriously."

"Well, we're here to help, man," Cyborg said. "Always."

"Thanks," Dick said. "That's why I came here. Who better to turn to than my best friends in the vastness of the universe?"

"Multiverse, technically," Raven amended sardonically.

"Yeah," Dick assented.

"Who are you?" Starfire asked Morrigan.

"Morrigan Aensland, princess of Makai," Morrigan replied.

"Ma . . . kai?" Starfire repeated.

"Think of it as the regions of Hell where demons reside and rule," Raven explained.

Morrigan smirked. "Trigon and my father Belial were rivals back in the day. Demitri also had a habit of contesting Trigon and Belial at earliest convenience."

Raven looked at Morrigan askance. "Does that mean you and I will be fighting?"

"Nope. I don't believe in carrying over my daddy's vendettas into the next generation."

"That's good news." Raven's tone was somewhat sarcastic.

"Where do we stay?" Dick asked.

"Your old room's available if you want it," Cyborg replied. "We've left it alone, except when we needed to keep it from gathering dust."

"You didn't see anything in there, did you?"

"Hell, no. We know you, man. When you're ready, you'll show us."

"What about me?" Morrigan asked coyly.

"There are plenty of guest rooms," Jinx replied. "You're free to whichever one you want."

"Sure," Morrigan said. "I think I'll take the one closest to Dick's room."

"Why?" Starfire asked, arching her nub of an eyebrow in suspicion.

"I need to be near him to guard against those who would come seeking his life while he is still comparatively weak," Morrigan answered matter-of-factly.

"I do not trust you," Starfire stated.

"You don't need to," Morrigan responded.

Dick moved between the two women. "It's ok, Star. I'm not gonna let her do anything to me."

Morrigan chuckled. "Like you haven't already?"

Starfire's eyes glowed, as did her hands, both smoking with jealous rage. Dick held his arms out, one holding back Starfire, the other holding back Morrigan. "Chill. Morrigan, don't provoke Starfire. Starfire, don't blast Morrigan out the window."

"What has she done to you, Nightwing?" Starfire asked. "Has she harmed you in any way?"

"No," Dick replied. He knew succubae could drain the bio-kinetic energy from others through sexual contact, but he didn't feel drained. In fact, he felt more alive and more aware than ever. He chalked it up to Demitri's spirit being active inside him and growing more active by the minute. He wasn't sure what would happen if Demitri's spirit awoke fully, and he didn't think he wanted to know.

"Hey, you wanna shoot some pool?" Jinx asked. "Your chance to win back some money from me."

"Why not?" Dick assented.

* * *

Soon enough, the two of them were at the pool table, cue sticks at the ready. Dick had chosen the solid-colored balls, and Jinx had chosen the striped balls. Dick had already scored with half of his balls, while Jinx had scored with slightly less of her balls. Dick twirled his cue stick like it was the bo staff he'd used so often back in his teenaged years. Positioning himself for a shoot, he smirked at Jinx. "Watch this. You're mine."

He shot, and the balls ricocheted around the pool table, three of his landing in two corner pockets and a side pocket. Jinx looked at him and smirked back. "Nice try, Boy Wonder, but you're gonna need more than that to beat me."

"I know," Dick answered confidently. "Your move."

"You know, I think I might just take something besides your money when I'm through," Jinx mused as she lined up for her shot.

"Like what?" Dick inquired.

Jinx made her shot, the balls scattering around the pool table as four of her balls made it into two corner pockets and two side pockets. "Oh, it's nothing big. Just . . . a little bit of information. Some dirt I can hold onto for a particularly juicy moment."

Dick shook his head slowly. Jinx was a big gossip when it came down to it, and she enjoyed being the key information broker on her fellow Titans' personal lives. He looked at the remaining balls on the table, seeing two solid-colored and one striped. He would have to win this one, or else reveal something he really didn't want to reveal. Sucking in a deep breath, he lined up for his shot and took it, seeing the balls ricochet around the pool table before slowly gravitating toward the pockets. One solid-colored ball landed in the corner pocket furthest from him, while the other disappointingly hovered just out of reach of that same pocket.

"Aw, too bad, Dick," Jinx mocked good-naturedly. "My turn."

She lined up for her shot, and that was when Dick got a wicked idea. As she leaned over to make sure of her shot, Dick sidled up to her. "You sure you got your angle right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jinx replied.

"Trajectories? Distances? Velocities?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Nothing . . ." He moved to whisper in her ear. "Just wishing you luck."

Jinx took her shot, which ironically knocked the last remaining solid-colored ball and the last striped ball into the same side pocket. "You did that on purpose," she accused.

"Who, me?" Dick asked innocently. "Nope, that's just the way the cookie crumbles. And technically, I win. My ball made it in first."

"We'll see about your balls soon enough," Jinx retorted, pointing her stick threateningly at Dick's crotch just to drive home the point.

Dick calmly grabbed the end of the stick pointing at his crotch and pushed his hand up while he moved closer to Jinx. "But since I'm a kind person, I'm gonna tell you that juicy bit of dirt you asked of me if you won."

Jinx smirked. "Really?"

"Yeah. Cyborg and Flash aren't the only ones who were taken in by your charms."

"Oh?" Jinx's ego fluttered to the surface. "Who else?"

By this point, Dick had gotten close enough that his hand and Jinx's were almost touching while holding the cue stick. Again, he moved to whisper in her ear. "Me."

"You? But you have Starfire."

"I was a kid whose mentor had a habit of simultaneously courting and fighting dangerous women. Some of that rubbed off on me." He removed his hand from Jinx's cue stick and moved away. "See you around, Jinx." He departed the game room for his bedchambers, leaving Jinx utterly astonished as to how "goody-two-shoes Robin" had grown into such a sexy beast. Sure, she loved Wally to death; he'd saved her from the dead-end life she was leading, but there was just something about a tall, dark stranger that instinctually sent tingles running up her spine.

_Kory, you are a lucky woman,_ Jinx thought. _Just make sure you don't take too long to make your claim._

Once inside his room, Dick flopped onto the bed, noting that everything was almost as he'd left it. He was rather surprised at how brazenly he'd acted with Jinx; it almost felt like his mouth and body were on autopilot. He hadn't been lying, though, when he said that he'd been attracted to Jinx when they were younger. She was sexy, in that whole "bad girl" kind of way. But that was as far as it went for Dick; she was his friend, and more importantly, he wasn't going to mess with her relationship with Wally to get his own rocks off.

"Thank you very much, Dick," Morrigan whispered, appearing in his room. "You've just given me a nice snack to nibble on tonight."

"You'd better not . . ." Dick started to say, rising to an upright position on his bed, but Morrigan waved her hand dismissively.

"Please. I won't do her any permanent harm. I might just spice up her and Wally's sex life a bit, too."

"Is that all you think about?"

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Dick. You should know better."

Dick stared warily into Morrigan's mischievous eyes, but he did know, regardless of his personal feelings on Morrigan's attitude, that he'd need her experience if he was going to survive his grim inheritance. He slumped back onto the bed, Morrigan grinning at him. "Rest well, Dick." She faded out of his room, the last thing to disappear being her grin, a la the Cheshire cat.

* * *

End Notes: There you have it, the second chapter of Darkstalker Titan. Dick is slowly coming into his heritage, while Morrigan's having her fun and the Titans are trying to cope with their erstwhile leader's changes and the danger they'll bring him and them. Will they be able to band together to survive the challenges ahead, or will their combined might prove no match against their enemies? For the answers to those questions and others, read on and let me know what you think so far.


	3. Mercy of the Damned

"Darkstalker Titan: Wings of Night"

Chapter 3: "Mercy of the Damned"

Disclaimer: Teen Titans belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Darkstalkers belongs to Capcom. I am not part of DC, WB, or Capcom in any manner that would allow me ownership or creative control over their properties and I make no money from this story. It is just a bit of unauthorized fun on my part.

Author's note: Things are certainly going to get interesting with Morrigan in the Tower. Of course, there is a certain level of danger inherent to having a succubus under one's roof, and the danger level only goes up when that succubus is accompanied by the reincarnation of a demonic vampire overlord, who has his own enemies to deal with. Furthermore, Nightwing is not the only one to be a Darkstalker reincarnation; there are others who unknowingly harbor the spirits of Darkstalkers inside them, and they will awaken as well. Perhaps . . . it is time for this story to commence.

* * *

Morrigan found Nightwing testing out the Titans' obstacle course the next morning. The laser drones shot at him, but Nightwing alternately dodged and deflected the blasts with his Birdarangs. Those weren't the only things he had to dodge, though; hidden traps with ten-second delays tested his reflexes as well. The targeting computers that were built into the obstacle course were highly accurate, to the point that Nightwing getting through the traps and laser shots as quickly as he was doing was nothing short of superhuman.

Morrigan smirked. _He's progressing quite well. You'd never know he was shot yesterday._

She watched him complete the obstacle course with no small amount of interest, curiously looking at the time it had taken him to complete it. "One minute and thirty-two seconds this time. Quite well done for a human."

"I'm not entirely human anymore," Nightwing remarked. "Hell, I might never have been in the first place."

"It only makes sense," Morrigan responded breezily. "You never found it odd how you could punch out a super-strong rock golem?"

"I paid for it later," Nightwing answered. "Raven had to heal my hands after that."

"Sweet girl, isn't she? A little dour for my tastes, but sweet."

Nightwing raised an eyebrow underneath his mask. "Don't even think about it."

Morrigan giggled whimsically. "You're sweet when you get protective, Nightwing."

"She's my friend. I'll do whatever it takes to protect her."

"Careful. 'Whatever it takes' has a habit of turning even the noblest warriors into the most despicable monsters."

Nightwing pondered that, remembering his own experiences. When he had fought Slade, he had been so obsessed with defeating the man that he had almost become every bit as monstrous as him. He remembered Harvey Dent, the crusading Gotham City D.A. who had been driven by anger and vengeance into madness and become every bit the monster he sought to bring to justice. He remembered Lyle Bolton, who regarded and treated the inmates of Arkham Asylum as less than human, not even worth the compassion one would give to an animal. He remembered his own mentor, Batman, who walked a nightly tightrope between the justice he wanted to uphold and the darkness he was tempted to embrace in the upholding of that justice.

"I know," he finally spoke, no louder than a whisper.

"Now why don't you come inside?" she asked. "I made breakfast."

Nightwing chuckled. "What about Vic and Gar?"

"They've been dealt with. I took all of your tastes into account, which is why Vic has his bacon and sausages, why Gar has his tofu, why Raven has her tea, and why Kory has her _glorp._"

"What about Wally and Jinx?"

"Jinx opted to make that herself. I tried my best to persuade her otherwise, but . . ."

Nightwing smiled. "She's quite stubborn. I guess that's what Wally likes about her."

"That's not the only thing," Morrigan purred mischievously.

"What did you do?" Nightwing interrogated.

"Nothing out of the usual. I merely gave her and Wally some . . . stimulation."

Nightwing took a moment to figure out what Morrigan meant by "stimulation," then took into account the nature of the couple's respective powers, and . . . "Huh."

* * *

Giggling at the flustered expression on Nightwing's face, Morrigan took his hand and guided him inside the Tower, into the kitchen-cum-dining room. When they entered, Flash looked at Nightwing. "So what the hell have you been doing all morning, Fearless Leader?"

"Training," Nightwing replied.

"Well, you've probably worked up an appetite," Cyborg said. "And Morrigan's a great cook." He smiled at the succubus. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Morrigan responded.

"So . . ." Changeling hesitated briefly. "Wanna tell us who the hell this Demitri Maximoff guy who Nightwing was supposed to be in a past life was?"

"It's a rather complex tale," Morrigan answered.

"Cliff's Notes version, then," Changeling countered.

"He was what you might call a vampire," Morrigan explained. "Of the blood-drinking variety. He was also a Makai Lord, until the day he thought to challenge my father Belial for kingship of Makai. Needless to say, Daddy kicked his ass and threw him out of Makai, into the human realm. There, he built up his power base, largely by subjugating the humans in that region and blotting out the sun so that he would not lose his power during the day. Once he was sure he was strong enough, he returned to conquer Makai, although events conspired to force him and I to pool our strengths together."

"What were those circumstances?" Cyborg asked.

"Someone else wanted Makai," Morrigan replied. "Jedah Doma. Imagined himself a savior, delivering the demon world from the stagnation that was creeping upon it. Demitri fought him for rule of Makai . . . and got himself dead, although Jedah was also defeated."

"Why Nightwing?" Jinx asked.

"Why did Demitri reincarnate as Nightwing?" Morrigan fleshed out Jinx's question. "If I had to wager, it was a punishment of sorts."

"Punishment?" Starfire echoed.

"Demitri didn't like humans that much," Morrigan replied. "Imagine how he'd react if he were aware that he was incarnated as a human, and a particularly heroic one at that." Her amused smile widened as she gazed upon Nightwing.

"I'm flattered," Nightwing drawled.

"So what's happening to him now?" Flash asked.

"Demitri's spiritual force is beginning to alter Nightwing's physical composition," Raven explained. "He heals faster from physical injury than before, for starters."

"And he's faster and more agile than before," Morrigan added helpfully.

"How do you know?" Jinx asked.

"He was training on your obstacle course," Morrigan explained. "And his completion times were getting shorter and shorter the more he repeated the course. His movements were faster and smoother, his reactions were quicker, his senses were sharper, and his aim was truer." She looked at Raven, addressing her directly. "Is something troubling you?"

"Yes, there is," Raven answered. "A vampire spirit inside Nightwing. How's that going to affect him?"

"I imagine he'll have an instinctual, psychosomatic need for blood," Morrigan surmised. "Failing that, he'll become a psychic vampire."

"A vampire with psychic powers?" Changeling presumed.

"No, but nice try," Morrigan answered with an amused tone. "No, a psychic vampire is a vampire who drinks life force instead of blood."

"Like you?" Changeling guessed.

"Somewhat," Morrigan admitted. "Succubae can be likened to psychic vampires in the sense that both drain life force from others, but psychic vampires generally don't need sexual contact or sexually oriented psychic energy to feed."

"Well, that's going to be interesting," Flash remarked.

"If it makes you feel better, I'm not looking forward to it, either," Nightwing said. He looked at Morrigan. "Is there any way of stopping it?"

"Not really," Morrigan replied. "It's endemic to your nature. You'll just have to learn to deal with it."

"I'm becoming a monster and you're telling me 'I have to learn to deal with it'?" Nightwing's tone was a quiet snarl.

Morrigan shrugged. "Most of your friends and fellow Titans would qualify as monsters, too. Even your mentor takes on the imagery of a monster as a psychological weapon against his foes. Would you condemn them as well?"

"Point taken," Nightwing replied through gritted teeth. "But there's a difference between abnormality and actively preying on innocent lives. _Monsters_ prey on the innocent. _My friends don't._"

"Well, at least you're more specific in your definitions," Morrigan commented flippantly. "Eat up, Nightwing. You'll need your strength."

"For what?"

"You're taking me shopping."

Everybody gaped at Morrigan, Nightwing's jaw the slackest of all. Starfire was the first to speak, and she was quite angry. "Why in X'Hal's name would Nightwing take you shopping?" she asked harshly.

"Because I need to see more of this lovely city, and Nightwing is the man I want to show me the best sights," Morrigan replied with a smile that promised nothing but mischief.

"You wouldn't mind if I went in place of stuffy old Nightwing, would you?" Changeling asked, leaning forward in his seat. "You'd have a way better time with me than him."

"No, but thank you very much for the offer," Morrigan answered. "You're sweet, but not my kind of sweet."

"What does Nightwing have that I don't?" Changeling mumbled.

"The sexiest ass known to womankind," Morrigan replied saucily.

"Does 'womankind' include the demonic variety?" Raven drawled.

"It certainly includes you," Morrigan answered with a wink.

"Fucking A, man," Flash grumbled. "We might as well not exist at all."

"Yeah, I see what you're saying," Cyborg agreed morosely.

"You have a girlfriend already, Wally," Raven pointed out. "One who happens to be eating with us and working with us right now."

"Yeah, I know," Flash conceded, "but it doesn't hurt a guy's ego to be seen as . . . desirable."

"Oh." Raven paused briefly. "That's what this is about. Ego. Your egos are bruised because a voluptuous succubus focused her attentions on Nightwing instead of you."

"She'd eat you alive, Flashy boy," Jinx added. "You, too, Cy-bear."

As Raven, Jinx, Flash, and Cyborg argued about the merits of Morrigan, Nightwing, and their respective levels of attractiveness, Joey Wilson, a.k.a. Jericho, wandered in. He looked at the bickering four, fixing them with a warning glare to get them to quiet down. They immediately obeyed; nice and friendly as Joey was, he was not exactly someone to idly piss off. He turned to Morrigan and extended his hand for a friendly shake, which Morrigan accepted, although she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb in ways that made Joey not . . . all that comfortable.

Raven saw the tint of red on his cheeks and the whites of her eyes glowed with jealousy. Morrigan turned to her and winked in such a manner that it was obvious what was on her mind. Joey pulled his hand out of Morrigan's, looking at it as though it had been burned. He looked back up at Morrigan and then looked at the other Titans, a perplexed expression on his almost girlishly handsome face.

"Her name's Morrigan," Nightwing replied. "Succubus, Lady of the Devil's Kingdom. My current mentor."

Joey shrugged, as if to say, "Sure, whatever." He looked at Nightwing and shook his head softly, giving the other young man a look that said, "You keep strange company."

At that moment, Morrigan looped her arm around Nightwing's, pressing into his bicep with her generous bosom. "Come on, baby. It's time for you to take me out."

Nightwing's face stayed impassive despite Morrigan's advances. "Yeah." He turned to the Titans. "We'll be seeing you soon."

"Lucky bastard," Changeling mumbled.

* * *

Nightwing took Morrigan to the Tower's vehicle bay, where they found the Fenrir-class black motorcycle that had been Nightwing's ride ever since outgrowing "Robin." It was of an imposing size, but also composed of sleek, graceful lines that spoke of great speed and agility. The only marker of its owner's identity was the stylized blue bird symbol emblazoned on the blacked-out speed shield.

"Do you intend to go out dressed like that?" Morrigan asked.

"I did it all the time back in the day," Nightwing replied. "City's used to us."

"I imagine they are . . ." Morrigan mused, straddling the backseat of the motorcycle. "Come on, Nightwing."

Nightwing got on the motorcycle's front seat, Morrigan wrapping her long, limber arms around him from behind. He donned a black helmet with a visor shaped like his mask and passed one to Morrigan. "There's a communication link between our helmets. You won't need to shout to get me to hear you."

"That's good," Morrigan answered.

Nightwing started his motorcycle and rode out of the Tower's vehicle bay, following the underwater tunnel that would take them into the city. Once in the city, Nightwing rode gracefully down the streets, smoothly passing other vehicles without scratch or incident. As he passed, he got surprised looks from those he passed, particularly where his passenger was concerned.

"I thought he was with Starfire," one of the bystanders muttered to her friend.

"Yeah, who's that slut he's got with him?" her friend asked.

Thankfully for those two girls, Nightwing and Morrigan were well out of earshot when they made those remarks. Otherwise, the two would have had words for them, very harsh words at that. Hell, Morrigan might have decided to go further than just words. Fortunately, Nightwing and Morrigan were not within earshot of those unthinking remarks, going about like there was nothing unusual.

When they entered the mall, the shoppers' attention quickly focused on them. After all, one of them was a tall, dark, dashingly handsome man garbed in black with a stylized blue bird symbol on his chest and blue highlights elsewhere on his costume. The other was a tall, voluptuous, and decadently gorgeous turquoise-haired woman in a white blouse low-cut for "maximum cleavage" and tight red leather pants. Men and women almost openly drooled over the duo, the desire in their eyes unmistakable.

"I want to try out your Black Blister shop," Morrigan whispered to Nightwing.

"Raven would kill me if she knew we went there," Nightwing murmured. "She thinks it's for posers."

"Hmm, you're all posers to me, anyway," Morrigan answered. "Silly humans; if most of you saw a _real_ creature of the night, you'd piss your pants and try to flee." She slowly, gently rubbed Nightwing's chest. "But not you. You're not afraid of me, are you?"

Nightwing stared at Morrigan, his expression inscrutable. "You _are_ aware people are watching us, right?"

"So? Let them watch. It'll give them something to dream about tonight."

"I suppose I can't teach you this fine Earth concept we have called 'modesty,' right?"

"Who needs it?" Morrigan asked coolly. She sauntered away from Nightwing, her hips swaying as she moved.

_You are going to be the death of me, Morrigan,_ Nightwing thought to himself as he followed her. When she finally stopped, they were in front of the ornately decorated Black Blister, said decorations being largely black and red and sheer spiderlike silk. They stepped inside, Morrigan smiling with faint amusement at the décor. She browsed the clothing aisle, until she spotted a black corset and thong harness that made her smile widen with glee.

* * *

"I have to have this," she said.

"Who's gonna pay for it?" Nightwing asked sardonically.

"You, but first I must try it on," Morrigan answered, walking inside the changing area.

"And why the hell do I have to pay?" Nightwing inquired petulantly.

"It's called 'chivalry,' isn't it?" Morrigan's voice called from inside the changing area.

"Women," a dry male voice remarked. "They're a strange friggin' bunch, aren't they?"

Nightwing turned and found a youngish man with dark hair and hollow, haunted eyes staring at him. "Yeah. Who are you?"

"Jon Talbain," the man replied. "You're Nightwing, right? Or at least a very talented cosplayer."

"I'm Nightwing, all right. So . . . what brings you here? Girlfriend?"

"No. Mutual acquaintance of ours."

Nightwing looked at Talbain with interest. "Who would you know that I also know?"

"She's coming out right now," Talbain replied.

Indeed, Morrigan came out of the changing area, dressed in a black corset that pushed up and emphasized her generous bust and a thong-like harness that hooked to the corset just below its cups. She also wore black leather arm-sleeves with spiked bracelets and thigh-high black platform heels. The outfit would have looked considerably awkward on most women; on Morrigan, it looked nothing short of ravishing.

Nightwing's mouth quickly dried out, to the point that it would be a wonder if he could speak at all. Jon Talbain, on the other hand, simply arched an amused eyebrow at Morrigan's choice of dress. "Who are you supposed to be?" he asked. "Some kind of dominatrix?"

"Jonny!" Morrigan squealed, hugging the man tightly and pressing her firm, luscious bosom against his chest. "How are you, honey?"

"Good," Talbain answered tersely.

"How're you and Felicia getting on?"

"We're just friends, Morrigan. That's how we get on."

"Awww, you'd be so cute together. Dogs and cats, you know."

"I'm a wolf."

"Even better."

Nightwing just gaped at them before finally screwing up the courage to speak. "What . . . is going on here?"

"Oh, Nightwing." Morrigan turned her attentions to him. "This is Jon Talbain, an old acquaintance of mine. Jonny, this is Nightwing."

"I've met him," Talbain said.

"Likewise," Nightwing said.

"So, Morrigan, is he the latest of your conquests?" Talbain questioned.

Nightwing stared at Talbain. "Not for lack of trying on her part, but we haven't had sex."

"Then what was that back on the plane?" Morrigan asked coyly.

"You took advantage of me while I was asleep," Nightwing answered darkly.

Talbain fought back a snicker and inhaled through his nose. "Your aura's not quite human. Your biology still is, but your spirit is something else."

"Yeah," Nightwing said.

"Have you been feeding off him?" Talbain directed this question at Morrigan.

"I can't help it. He tastes lovely. I think I could get addicted to him."

"You might want to be careful. The more you touch him, the stronger his Darkstalker side becomes and the more palpably it manifests."

"Darkstalker?" Nightwing repeated.

"The name we have been given by the humans. The name ascribed to those of us who are creatures of the dark," Talbain replied.

Morrigan cut in at that moment by doing a brief spin to display every angle of herself in her outfit. "What do you think?"

"You look great," Nightwing answered.

"Uh-huh, whatever," Talbain added.

"Don't be such a grouch," Morrigan pouted. She looked in the clothing aisles again, spotting a different yet equally scandalous outfit. She immediately disappeared into the changing area to try it out.

"Is she always like this?" Nightwing asked.

"Yes," Talbain replied.

It didn't take long before Morrigan came out of the changing area, this time wearing a nearly-transparent black silk dress. Fortunately for public decency, her nipples covered by crisscrossing strips of black leather fastened by a bat-winged ruby brooch. A black G-string aided the cause of public decency, but it was skimpy enough that it was obvious she shaved. A pair of sheer black stockings fastened onto garters emphasized the tone and sleekness of her legs.

"What do you think of this one?" she asked, twirling to display herself for the two men.

"Not bad," Nightwing replied.

"Even if you put on a paper bag, men would still flock to you," Talbain remarked. "What's the point?"

"An ego boost," Nightwing whispered into Talbain's ear. "Haven't you had a girlfriend?"

"No," Talbain replied. "And Felicia doesn't count."

"Who is this Felicia, anyway?" Nightwing asked.

Talbain growled lowly, sounding more like a wolf than a human. "None of your fucking business."

"He's just shy," Morrigan purred. "Don't worry about him."

"Any other outfits you wanna try?" Nightwing asked, quickly changing the subject.

Morrigan went through the clothing aisle again, finding yet another outfit she liked and disappearing into the changing area to try it on. Nightwing and Talbain, having nothing to do at that point, stared at each other. To Talbain, Nightwing's face was quite youthful and boyishly handsome, but there were lines in that face that no one his age should have just yet, lines that spoke of harsher experiences than his apparent age would suggest. To Nightwing, Talbain's face was as close to lupine as a human face could get, but the strength and intelligence depicted in those lupine features bred a certain . . . attractiveness.

Breaking the staring contest was Morrigan's return, this time dressed in a black one-piece with buckles for the front and a skimpy G-string bottom. The outfit was accompanied by a singular lavender stocking on the left leg and a thigh-high black boot on the right leg, her left foot being covered by a knee-high black boot. She wore black leather arm-sleeves that ended in rings around the middle fingers, a thick black choker, and a studded eye-patch with a thick band.

"Are you supposed to be some kind of fetishist pirate?" Nightwing asked dryly.

"Hmm, is that your way of saying you like it?" Morrigan asked with a coquettish smirk. "If you're good, you'll see it again."

* * *

Before Nightwing could answer that, he was interrupted by the sound of a shattering skylight and ensuing terrified screams. _"Darkstalkers detected. Darkstalkers detected,"_ one robotic voice could be clearly heard saying.

"_Calculating number of Darkstalkers,"_ another robotic voice spoke, nearly identical to the first.

"_Calculation completed. Number of Darkstalkers present within vicinity: 3,"_ a third robotic voice added. _"Determining course of action now."_

"_Course of action determined. Course of action: terminate,"_ a fourth robotic voice chimed in.

"They must mean us," Nightwing mused, sounding a lot calmer than he felt. He started to walk out of Black Blister, thankful he stayed in his costume instead of getting changed into civilian clothes. Behind him, his ears caught the faint-but-increasingly-not sound of bones shifting and popping out of and into place. He would have been frightened, had he not remembered that Jon Talbain was a wolf in human shape, which meant that the noises he was hearing were simply Talbain reverting to his more "familiar" state. Thus, he kept moving forward, while sparing some words for Morrigan. "I'd suggest you get something more suited for this occasion."

By the time Nightwing got outside the store, he saw a cavalcade of short, heavy-built gold robots with a look that reminded him of some steampunk anime. He looked at them with a tilted head, as they seemed to be analyzing him. _"Darkstalker found. Analysis yields metapaths matching Demitri Maximoff. Scanning records. Darkstalker Demitri Maximoff is deceased. Metapathic match determined to be reincarnation."_

"What are these things?" Nightwing asked.

"Huitzil robots," Talbain, now in wolf form, answered. "They hunt us."

"Us? As in Darkstalkers?"

"Yeah," Morrigan replied, now garbed in the black bodice and purple arm-sleeves and tights that were her battle attire.

"Something . . . I can see something . . ."

"What is it you see?" Morrigan asked curiously.

Nightwing looked at the Huitzil robots, his expression hardening. "I see how they're going to die."

* * *

End Notes: There you have it; the third chapter of Darkstalker Titan. More of Demitri Maximoff's slumbering power begins to awaken within Nightwing, and he's already met another Darkstalker. Of course, there is plenty of danger endemic to the gathering of Darkstalkers, and as I said before, there are other Darkstalker incarnates among the Titans. Just who are they, whose spirits do they harbor, and what will happen when those spirits begin to awaken? And just how will Nightwing, Morrigan, and Talbain get out of this fine mess? For the answers to those questions and others, hang on for the next chapter and thank you for reading this one.


	4. Release the Dragon Within

"Darkstalker Titan: Wings of Night"

Chapter 4: "Release the Dragon Within"

Disclaimer: Teen Titans and Darkstalkers are not mine. The former belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers, and the latter belongs to Capcom. As I am not a part of any of those corporate institutions, I completely lack control over the direction of the franchises I just mentioned. Furthermore, I make no money whatsoever from this story; this is entirely for my own amusement and the amusement of you who read this story.

Author's note: For the reviewer who stated that Demitri's power was already influencing Nightwing, you are partly correct. However, that power is also being drawn out by Morrigan feeding on his sexual energies. In contrast to draining a normal human, the more Morrigan drains Nightwing, the more the gap is compensated by Demitri's spirit. Now that Nightwing's in an actual fight with Darkhunting robots, you're just going to have to wait and see how those powers will actually work for . . . or against him. Shall we begin?

* * *

Nightwing reached for his T-com, pulling out the silver-and-blue device and pressing the button that would transmit his voice to any and all Titans communicators within range. "Titans, this is Nightwing. We're under attack. I'm sending you my coordinates now. I would not advise dragging your feet. Nightwing out."

He put the T-com away and withdrew a pair of Birdarangs that were closer to short swords than anything else. Beside him, Morrigan and Jon Talbain prepared for battle. "I think we can take them," Morrigan said.

"You always think we can take them," Talbain grunted. "That's what I like about you, your insane confidence."

The Huitzil robots looked at the trio appraisingly. _"Darkstalker identities confirmed. Morrigan Aensland: Succubus. Threat level: Omega. Jon Talbain: Lycanthropic wolf. Threat level: Beta. Demitri Maximoff reincarnation: Vampire. Threat level: Beta-Alpha. Course of action determined: Terminate all."_

"Terminate this," Morrigan retorted, launching herself into the air and wrapping her wings around her legs for a corkscrew kick that literally acted as a drill, destroying one of the Huitzil. The others began to attack in a swarm pattern, prompting Morrigan to shoot the lead Huitzil down with an energy blast. She then wrapped her wings around her arms to act as gauntlets that amplified the force of her punches while protecting her hands from injury upon impact with the Huitzil's golden bodies.

Nightwing waded into the fray, alternately stabbing and slicing the Huitzil. Strangely enough, it only took one stab or one slice for the Huitzil he attacked to fall apart entirely, much to Talbain's surprise even as he rent the Huitzil with savage grace. _Just what is this kid, anyway?_ Talbain wondered.

Morrigan wrapped her wings around her legs next, the wings acting to amplify the force of her kicks, of which there were many. One Huitzil in particular was kicked a hundred times in the space of one second before being finished off with an energy blast. She defeated other Huitzil by transforming her wings into lashing spikes that pierced and ripped the robots. She divided herself into two perfect duplicates and they kicked a Huitzil together from opposite sides. Fusing back into one, Morrigan punched another Huitzil before setting off an energy blast that blew it apart, shrapnel flying everywhere.

Nightwing continued to fight through the Huitzil, his sight so clear that every intrinsic weakness of the Darkhunter robots was obvious to him. His Birdarangs cut apart the Huitzil like they were nothing but wet tissue paper. Strangely enough, for all the excitement and intensity of the fight, his expression was one of complete aplomb. He didn't shout, he didn't yell, he didn't make any taunts . . . hmm, that last one would have to be scratched, as he _was_ taunting the robots.

"You know, you completely suck at this," he remarked with cold derision. "Really? Can't you do better than this? Shouldn't your programmer have been smarter than this?"

This was the scene the Titans emerged upon, seeing Nightwing cut apart the Huitzil robots with cold, brutal efficiency. At that moment, the Huitzil turned their attentions to the Titans. _"More Darkstalkers detected. Identifying now."_

"Oh, go fuck yourselves," Cyborg scoffed and fired his arm-turned-cannon at the Huitzil, several of which were crushed by the weaponized concentration of sound.

"_Sensing metapathic resonance with previously recorded Darkstalkers. Determining source now."_

Jinx threw out several hex blasts at the robots, causing them to fall apart. "What's with these things, anyway?"

"_Identities confirmed. Source of Darkstalker metapathic resonance also confirmed. Raven: Half-demon. Threat level: Omega. Lord Raptor reincarnation: Undead. Current identity: Garfield 'Changeling' Logan. Threat level: Beta. Donovan Baine reincarnation: Dhampir. Current identity: Victor 'Cyborg' Stone. Threat level: Alpha-Beta. Lilith reincarnation: Succubus, fragment of Morrigan Aensland's soul. Current identity: Maharet 'Jinx.' Threat level: Beta-Alpha."_

"What . . . the hell?" Changeling asked. "I'm . . . a Darkstalker? Whoa. In another context, that might actually be cool."

"How come I'm a Beta and _Raven's_ an Omega?" Jinx asked petulantly, blasting the Huitzil robots with more hex energy.

"Yeah, they totally don't know what they're talking about!" Flash chimed in, attempting to comfort his distressed girlfriend as he vibrated through Huitzil robots, his vibrations causing them to shatter.

Morrigan whistled when she noticed what Flash had done. "Now _that's_ what I call a vibrator."

"Hey, quit flirting with my boyfriend!" Jinx shouted, even as she directed more hex blasts at the Huitzil.

"You are _so_ totally an Omega!" Flash continued on. "These buckets of bolts ought to be bowing down to you!"

"Um, I'm supposed to be an actual demon lord, and they're not bowing down to me," Nightwing remarked snidely.

"Good," Flash answered. "Can't have your head getting any more swollen, now can we?"

"Flattery gets you nowhere," Raven said to the Huitzil, just before ripping them apart with her telekinetic powers.

"Whoa, check out Nightwing," Changeling uttered.

The Titans turned their attentions to Nightwing, just enough to see him calmly dissecting the Huitzil while delivering biting barbs like, "You really didn't think this many of you was all you needed, did you?" He sliced apart another Huitzil and sighed. "Oh, you did? Idiots. And they say robots are supposed to be smarter than organics? Get real." He stabbed one Huitzil and it instantly fell apart around his Birdarang.

"How is he doing this?" Starfire asked.

"We'll ask him later," Cyborg replied, blasting more Huitzil with concentrated sonic vibrations from his cannons.

At that moment, Nightwing did something that surprised the Titans. He put the Birdarangs away and launched himself into a flying kick that caught one Huitzil in the eye, only to bounce off the falling Huitzil and flipped into a kick to another one. He launched into a series of ricochet kicks that felled no less than ten Huitzil, counting the ones he had already downed with his kicks. Now there were only five left, and they didn't look all that pleased with him. Nightwing simply extended his hand and made a beckoning gesture, the corner of his lips quirked into a smirk.

"Who the hell is this guy and what the fuck has he done with Nightwing?!" Changeling exploded.

Raven fought not to fall to her knees out of sheer terror from the waves of murderous intent emanating from Nightwing. She had never felt anything like it, not even when her father Trigon had attacked the Earth; Trigon's aura had been full of murderous apathy, a force of nature that simply _was_ and couldn't be bothered to be anything else. This toxic energy she felt coming from Nightwing . . . was full of malice and bloodlust.

"You're right about one thing," she finally spoke, through gritted teeth. "That's _not_ Nightwing."

"You rhymed," Changeling uttered, pathologically unable to avoid making a dumb joke in the midst of a dangerous fight.

The five remaining Huitzil robots swarmed around Nightwing, obscuring him for a moment. A moment later, the robots fell, reduced to so much scrap metal, revealing a motionless Nightwing holding a pair of tonfa batons with blue energy lances extending from their back ends. An expression of cold satisfaction rested on his handsome face, giving it a frightening aura only augmented by the waves of murderous intent still crashing from him.

Starfire looked up at Morrigan with an expression of complete fury, before flying up to her and punching her in the face. "_You did this to him!_"

Morrigan quickly recovered, a dark smile forming on her face. "Not really. I simply brought out what was already there, waiting beneath the surface." She blocked another punch from Starfire, closing her hand around the warrior princess's fist and squeezing. "Think of me what you will, but I have Nightwing's interests in mind when I do what I do."

"You _lie!_" Starfire yelled, shooting a starbolt at Morrigan with her other hand. Unfortunately for her, Morrigan deflected the starbolt and it flew through the ruined skylight.

"No, I don't lie," Morrigan answered. "I do many things, but I don't lie. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

Starfire was in no mood to listen. Starfire wanted to tear Morrigan apart for corrupting Nightwing. Starfire launched an optic starbolt at Morrigan, but Morrigan's head wings folded over her face, shielding it from the blast. When they pulled back, Morrigan smirked at Starfire, prompting the warrior princess to throw another punch – this one starbolt-enhanced – with her free hand. Once again, Morrigan's head wings folded over her face, shielding it from the impact of Starfire's starbolt-charged fist.

"Hey, Nightwing!" Cyborg shouted. "Snap out of it! Your girls are gonna tear each other apart over you!"

"I suppose I should end this tête-à-tête," Nightwing mused, his voice carrying a hint of a Romanian accent. He jumped into the air and kicked both Starfire and Morrigan in the stomach, proceeding to grab the guardrail below and swing up on it back onto solid ground. "There. Ended. Satisfied?"

"What the _fuck_ was _that?!_" Jinx asked.

"I ended their fight," Nightwing answered. "Like you wanted me to."

"You were supposed to talk them to their senses, not one-shot them!" Cyborg protested.

"Never ask a not-Nightwing to do anything you would ask the _real_ Nightwing to do," Raven drawled. She turned to Nightwing, who was still looking at them all with an expression that bordered on malevolent curiosity. "Just who the hell are you?"

"If the boy can have a codename, so can I. It's Dracul."

"You mean like Dracula?" Changeling asked.

"No," Dracul replied. "It has two meanings, one being 'devil' and the other being 'dragon.' I really don't care which one you're thinking of when you address me, just make sure you address me with the proper respect."

Cyborg pointed his cannon arm at Dracul. "Give us back our friend."

* * *

"How about . . . no?" Dracul answered, just before assaulting Cyborg with extremely fast punches and kicks. To his surprise, Cyborg fell apart.

"How . . . ?" Cyborg asked.

"I can see the clear path to my victory and your defeat," Dracul replied.

Flash attacked Dracul at super-speed. "If you won't give us back Nightwing, we'll take him back!"

"Nice sentiment, but do you have the power to back it up?" Dracul taunted, striking the Scarlet Speedster in the chest with his fingertips. To the Flash's surprise, he crumpled to the ground from the blow. Dracul looked to the other Titans, as well as Talbain and Morrigan. "Who's next?"

"Should have killed you before you manifested, Demitri," Talbain snarled, lunging for Dracul's throat.

With lightning-like reflexes, Dracul caught Talbain's outstretched claw and spun into a throw that sent Talbain crashing into the other Titans. At least, that would have been the outcome if not for Talbain's own dexterity, enabling him to land on all fours almost like a cat. When he attacked again, he did so with the help of Changeling, who had transformed into the Werebeast. Not that it did either that much good, as Dracul cut them both with his tonfa-hilted laser blades. Under normal circumstances, those wounds would have healed quickly, but . . . these were not normal circumstances, and they weren't healing.

"What's . . ." Talbain started to ask.

Dracul smirked. "I wounded the very concept of your existences. Try healing from that."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Jinx asked. "How can you wound a _concept?_"

"It's a power very few psychics and mystics have," Raven explained. "It's the ability to see the nature of a thing, and not just its nature, but also the very metaphysical concepts behind that nature. Those who can see the metaphysics at work in a thing's existence can strike directly at those metaphysical concepts and thus wound or even utterly annihilate the very existence of that thing."

"That wasn't a power Demitri had before," Morrigan mused. "But then, no one ever said a reincarnation ended up exactly the same as its former existence."

Starfire, Jinx, Morrigan, and Raven went on a four-pronged assault, hex blasts, psychically generated dark matter, morphing wings, and emerald plasma globules flying at Dracul. For his part, Dracul dodged their attacks with unnatural alacrity, speeding up to Raven and thrusting his tonfa-hilted laser blade at her. To the surprise of everyone except Raven, Dracul missed her entirely and had gotten close enough for her to kick him in the stomach, the added telekinetic pulse behind her kick sending him flying.

"Wow. He must have really bad aim," Jinx remarked.

"No," Raven denied. "Nightwing is resisting. That's why Demitri missed."

Dracul landed on the guardrail, perched in a combat stance. "Doesn't matter. His resistance simply makes this more amusing."

It was at that moment Jericho locked eyes on Dracul, and his power activated, transforming him into an astral being that merged with Nightwing's body. Inside, Jericho found a tall, imposing man with brown hair simultaneously gelled up and styled in a widow's peak and dressed in black Victorian garb looming over a Nightwing struggling in his chains.

* * *

"_You think I'm going to let you kill my friends?"_ Nightwing taunted.

"_Actually, you won't have a choice in the matter,"_ Demitri answered in a cruel, strong Romanian accent. _"You will have a front row seat, though, to their deaths."_

"_I . . . don't . . . think so!"_ Nightwing screamed, bursting free of his psychic chains. _"Let's dance, you shitty Dracula wannabe."_

Demitri scowled. _"As you will. But you'll regret this."_

Demitri and Nightwing began to fight, trading brutally fast and precise punches and kicks. Demitri might have thought himself the stronger of the two, due to various dark powers at his disposal, but this battlefield was Nightwing's psychic territory, giving him the home team advantage. As they fought, Jericho watched, ready to give Nightwing his aid in any way he could should it become necessary.

It was at that moment Nightwing became aware of a third presence in his mindscape. _"Joey, you mind not just standing there?"_

Jericho nodded and threw himself into the fray. _"Two against one,"_ he taunted Demitri. _"You sure you want to go up against us?"_

"_Two little boys, against me? I'll have both your souls as my feast!"_

"_Blah, blah, woof, woof,"_ Nightwing sneered. _"Prove it."_

Demitri roared in rage and attacked both Nightwing and Jericho with inhuman speed and force. Nightwing and Jericho blocked his attacks and retaliated with equal precision and power. Nightwing grabbed Jericho by the arm and spun him into a kick that knocked down Demitri, only for Demitri to get up and wipe blood from his lip. _"You hurt me. I'm impressed. There is some bite to your bark after all. But that won't save either of you."_

Nightwing laughed harshly. _"You think this is all we can do? This is my mind. I can do anything here."_

"_Really?"_ Demitri prodded.

Demitri got his answer when Nightwing flashed into an attack on Demitri that knocked the proverbial wind out of the former demon lord. _"That's my Superman impression. Wanna see my Green Lantern?"_

"_Do whatever you like, fool mortal,"_ Demitri answered disdainfully.

Suddenly, thousands upon thousands of hard-light swords formed around Nightwing and Jericho, all of them pointed at Demitri. _"As you will,"_ Nightwing taunted, just before the swords flew at Demitri, so many of them that not even he could deflect them all. The swords he could not evade or deflect impaled him in every single part of his body they could reach, pinning him to an invisible vertical surface.

Demitri's body twitched and the hard-light swords dissipated, although the wounds they had dealt remained . . . and those were healing quite rapidly. _"Foolish boy, you think that's enough to finish me? True, you've wounded me . . . but there's a proverb: Never wound what you cannot kill. I will teach you that lesson the painful way."_

It didn't escape either young man's notice that as Demitri spoke, he was transforming into a monstrous bat-like hominid. Nightwing merely shook his head in disdain. _"I've taken down bigger monsters than you."_

To prove Nightwing's point, Jericho used his hands as a springboard for Nightwing to leap into a drop kick that staggered Demitri. It didn't knock him down, though, and Demitri retaliated with a vicious punch that sent Nightwing crashing to the ground. At that moment, Jericho went on the attack, kicking Demitri in the solar plexus, only for Demitri to grab his ankle and throw him aside.

"_Is this what you call 'taking me down'?"_ Demitri taunted.

"_You haven't seen everything I've got, have you?"_ Nightwing retorted. _"I might just be one guy, but I am not alone here. My friends, the people I love, the people who love me, are right beside me. I will never forsake them, and they will never forsake me."_

As Nightwing spoke, mystical avatars of the other Titans – Flash, Cyborg, Changeling, Starfire, Jinx, Raven, Arsenal, Tempest, Wonder Girl, Bumblebee, and Herald – emerged as a protective barrier between him and Demitri, who simply barked out a laugh. _"The power of friendship? Is that what you intend to use to defeat me?"_

"_There's a reason the redemptive powers of love in its various forms are such a popular theme in fiction,"_ the Raven avatar spoke, stepping forward. _"It's true. Love saves. Our love will save Nightwing from your grip."_

Demitri laughed in her face. _"You fool."_ He launched himself into the "sky" of Nightwing's mindscape and launched himself into what he meant to be a decisive final attack.

Cyborg, Changeling, Flash, and Arsenal grabbed Nightwing by the arms and threw him into the air. As Nightwing ascended, Wonder Girl ascended after him and took him by the hand, boosting his flight with a twist of her wrist. Tempest projected a tidal surge to further boost Nightwing's flight. Jinx used a hex burst to push herself just high enough into the air to kick Nightwing in the back, helping him close the distance between himself and Demitri. Finally, Starfire and Raven both ascended to take Nightwing by the hands, prompting him to look them both in the eyes for a moment before they sent him flying toward Demitri.

"_See this?"_ Nightwing asked, clanging two Birdarangs together to form a sword. _"This is real power, the kind you can't get fighting only for yourself."_

Demitri thrust his hand out, hardening it into a blade that he intended to drive into Nightwing's heart. In that, he succeeded, but he did not succeed in the intended result of that action, as Nightwing held on long enough to stab Demitri in his heart with the Birdarang sword. He pulled his sword through and across Demitri's chest, yanking it out just in time for both combatants to start falling to the ground. To Nightwing's surprise, it was Morrigan who caught him, the demon queen looking into his eyes with a new respect shining in hers.

Once Morrigan and Nightwing landed, all of the Titans avatars disappeared except for Raven, who shifted into a shadow-form of herself. The shadow-Raven walked over to Morrigan, with Jericho following her. Morrigan looked up at Raven. _"Will he be all right?"_

"_A battle in one's own mindscape, particularly against a force like Demitri, is not something one walks away from lightly,"_ Raven answered. _"But Nightwing's will and soul are stronger than anything else I've ever seen. He will be all right, he only needs rest."_

"_What about Demitri?"_ Jericho asked. _"What if he recovers first and tries to take over while Nightwing's still recuperating?"_

"_That won't happen,"_ Raven replied bluntly, a dark-matter coffin forming around Demitri's unconscious frame, which had reverted to its more human-looking state. _"He'll be trapped in there, his influence sealed away."_

"_Will that make Nightwing a normal human again?"_ Jericho asked.

Raven shook her head. _"What's done is done. The most I can do is prevent Demitri's personality from corrupting Nightwing's while Nightwing taps into his powers."_

"_At least we have our friend back,"_ Jericho whispered. _"That's the important thing."_

* * *

In the real world, an unconscious Nightwing was carried in Morrigan's arms, much to the not-so-slight jealousy of Starfire, while Raven healed Talbain's and Changeling's wounds. Once that was over with, Raven telekinetically reassembled the damaged portions of the mall at the level of their very molecules, preventing a more "natural" collapse. She turned to Cyborg, whose machine parts had fixed themselves due to a self-repair subroutine he had previously installed in their programming.

"You all right, Vic?" she asked.

"Yeah," Cyborg replied. "But . . . the self-repair subroutine acted a little faster than normal."

"What do you mean?"

"At its maximum effectiveness, it's roughly four times faster than an external reassembly. This . . . felt more like six times."

"Those robots did say you were a Darkstalker reincarnation," Flash interjected. "Specifically, some guy called a 'dhampir.' What the hell's a 'dhampir'? Is it some kind of species of vampire?"

"In a sense," Raven replied. "A dhampir is someone born to a vampire parent and a human parent. Vampires can't procreate amongst each other; their reproductive material is too inert for such a thing. But mix vampire seed with a living egg, or mix a vampire egg with living seed, and you get a dhampir, someone with the strengths of the vampire but with human blood shielding him or her from many of the drawbacks."

"Let's go back to the Tower," Cyborg said. "We might find some answers there."

Once safe inside Titans Tower (more or less), Nightwing was hooked to machines that monitored both his bio-kinetics and his neuropaths. While he was still unconscious, it now seemed more that he was sleeping rather than having been subjected to some sort of mental trauma. His expression was still, peaceful, almost serene, something none except Starfire (and maybe Morrigan) had had the pleasure of seeing before.

"I wonder what he's dreaming about," Morrigan murmured, stroking Nightwing's face gently. Surprisingly, the gesture was more one of simple affection than mere lust. "Or whom he's dreaming about."

"Who is he dreaming about?" Starfire wondered, fearing the answer and yet desperate to know what it was.

"You," Morrigan replied.

"Me?" Starfire thought. "I thought Nightwing no longer harbored such feelings for me."

"You thought wrong," Morrigan answered. She looked at Starfire. "I cannot make someone love me. I can make them desire me, but I cannot make them love me. When I entered his dreams, the one that took center stage in them all was you." She smiled. "All this time, when he could have had anyone he wanted, he denied himself the one he wanted most. What a fool."

"Nightwing is not a fool," Starfire retorted, her tone growing hard. "He is an intelligent, thoughtful, and meticulous man."

"And that's part of the problem. He thinks too much, lets his fears and his doubts get in the way of what he feels, what he knows in his heart to be true. But, I cannot deny what you said, for I know that to be true as well. He is . . . without a doubt, the strongest human I have ever met."

"You admire him."

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

Morrigan chuckled. "I don't do love."

"When you spoke of being unable to make someone love you, you said that with longing in your voice," Starfire brought up. "As though you hungered for something more than merely the life energies of those you took to bed. Do you deny that?"

"No, I do not."

"Morrigan. If Nightwing is not unwilling . . . would you accept a tripartite relationship with us?"

"A _ménage a trois._" Morrigan smirked. "I think I am going to like you, Starfire."

Starfire smiled back. "And I you."

* * *

Outside in the monitoring room, Changeling pouted. "How come Nightwing gets to have two beautiful women willing to share him?"

"It's like Morrigan said, he has the sexiest ass known to womankind," Jinx remarked.

"Nightwing's ass is not that great," Flash grumbled.

"How would you know?" Jinx asked, a wicked glimmer in her eye.

"I've known Nightwing for years," Flash replied. "I knew him way before there ever were Titans. He is not that great."

"Jealous, honey?" Jinx asked, half-solicitously, half-tauntingly.

"Yes, I am jealous," Flash admitted petulantly.

Jinx leaned up to whisper in the Scarlet Speedster's ear. "You can do things Nightwing could never do for me."

"Like what?" Flash murmured quietly.

"That vibrating thing you do . . . I have no idea why women aren't all over you for it." Jinx snickered. "Of course, if anybody comes near you without my permission . . ."

"I prefer not to brag. A little appreciation would just do nicely."

Jinx chuckled. "Would you like it if I showed you my appreciation? Right now?"

"Get a room, you two," Cyborg grunted good-naturedly.

"Sure thing," Flash replied, and flashed to his room, carrying Jinx with him.

"Thank God we soundproofed the walls," Changeling remarked.

"Not as much of a blessing as you might think," Raven answered.

"Why's that?" Changeling asked. Then he paused to think. "Oh. You can still sense them going at it."

"Yeah," Raven confirmed.

"And I can feel the vibrations," Cyborg added.

"Yeah, soundproof walls don't work much with animal-keen hearing," Changeling admitted.

Jericho shrugged and gestured toward Nightwing, Starfire, and Morrigan. "Well, at least they're getting along better than they're used to," Raven remarked. "Although she still feels kind of off to me."

"Is that jealousy or is it territoriality?" Changeling asked. "Because I can understand both."

"I'm not jealous," Raven denied. "And I am not feeling an urge to stake my claim here."

Jericho looked at Raven slightly askance, an eyebrow raised in silent amusement. Raven simply looked at Jericho with a warning stare. Cyborg and Changeling looked at each other and shrugged. The world wasn't ending, Nightwing was safe, and they were all back together. Things could be a lot worse than this. Of course, they probably would get a lot worse than this, but that was what Titans were for.

* * *

End Notes: There you have it, chapter 4 and the brief reemergence of Demitri Maximoff. If you're wondering about Nightwing's "special vision," it was inspired by the "Mystic Eyes of Death Perception" seen in Shiki Tohno of the visual novel-turned-anime Tsukihime. As for how he was able to keep up with the Flash when the Flash should have decimated him, when he goes deep enough into his powers, he is slightly out of phase with the timeline, which enables him to see the immediate past, present, and future simultaneously and thus further augments his reaction time. Cyborg's self-repair program is crafted from nanomachines, which is how it can also fix up his organic parts. You will get an explanation as to how Cyborg, Jinx, and Changeling being Darkstalker reincarnations affects their present lives and abilities, and . . . you will see Baby Bonnie Hood, although her incarnation may very well surprise you. Don't forget to let me know what you thought of this.


End file.
